The ornament box naturally also shrank. What surprised me was how delightful it was to rediscover ornaments I grew up with -- shiny baubles from the 50s, small "stained glass" ornaments that my sister baked in the oven (which foretold her stained glass making in college), and tiny little figures which seemed to have always existed.
|First and best! Little pine cone elf! With his feather quill!|
|The angel, oh my goodness! Can you believe it, people?|
|Added since I have been gone. Birds are always nice.|
|One of the best of the old ornament boxes! Always loved the color and shape.|
"Oh! Really? Nope, I don't remember that at all..."
Mom shook her head. "I have always loved the drummer, I hang it every year! He fits very nicely into the lamp base. But then you gave Dad those little wooden birds and I like to have them nearby as well."
*An ex boyfriend from -- no exaggeration -- 20 years ago.
We finished the little tree over a couple sessions, with my sister also adorning it. A much more mellow affair. And on Christmas Eve there was such a nice sweetness to opening my shipping box and distributing presents; and then seeing the folks disappear to their separate hiding places and emerge with variously colored boxes that were then sprinkled around the base. Happens most everywhere, I know; and to all the parents out there, present distribution is old hat -- but somehow, the pooling together of presents, as seen activity, as adults -- struck me as lovely. Christmas afternoon, my sister and her boyfriend easily doubled the present mass with their festive offerings. There was much admiration of thought(fulness) and thing; warmth, affection, and laughter; and confections at every turn. Hope Everyone's holiday season has been as lovely!
Parting note: bonus lights tour, courtesy Sister. Here's a smattering of shots, more of which can be found here. The Tuckers and Valenzas don't fool around!
|Tuckers: Firefighting and Cartoon Love, in a Small Front Yard|
|Valenzas: Lit-Up Winter Wonderland.|
|Snowman, menacing visitors with his broom.|
|Rarely seen Porcine Claus, on side street.|
|Closer to home, but not home. Parents say it grows each year.|